Sink or Swim (4 page)

A
s we hurry down the marble stairs, I glance at my watch, which says it’s twelve fifteen at night. Huh? It doesn’t feel like it’s twelve fifteen. Oh, right, that’s the time it is back home.

I look for a clock and see that it’s six
P.M
. here. I guess every hour at home is a day here. We have to be back home by seven
A.M
., the time Mom and Dad wake us up. So we have six-and-three-quarter hours. Which means six-and-three-quarter days here. That’s tons of time to find the Little Mermaid a new happy ending and find our portal home.

As long as my watch is right. We did take a bit of a swim — I hope this watch is waterproof.

We hear the music from the ballroom and discover that the event is already in full swing. Since we’re both starving, we make a beeline for the buffet. Vivian introduces us to Carolyn, the chef, who’s setting up the plates of lobster sandwiches, mac and cheese, corn, and, of course, mustard. Lots and lots of mini bowls of mustard.

Carolyn is wearing a poofy yellow chef’s hat and a yellow apron. She’s about my nana’s age.

“Have you guys even tried ketchup?” Jonah asks Carolyn. “I think you’d like it.”

She makes a sour face. “Ketchup? Too tomato-y.”

Jonah sighs.

As we munch on the delicious food, we chat with the guests. Everyone wants to meet us, the children who saved the prince.

“It wasn’t just us!” I tell anyone who will listen. “A mermaid was the one to actually save him — we only helped with the last step.”

“A mermaid! What’s that, darlings?” asks the queen.

“A half fish, half human,” I explain.

“That’s impossible,” the queen laughs. “You two darlings have fantastic imaginations!”

“Have you ever heard of mermaids?” we ask Vivian as she folds yellow napkins. “Half fish, half human?”

“No such thing,” she snaps.

How are we going to get someone to tell us how to find the Little Mermaid if no one has ever heard of mermaids?

“Psst! Hey!”

Jonah and I turn around to see Carolyn the chef beckoning from a long hallway.

“Does she mean us?” I ask.

“I guess so,” Jonah says. “Let’s go!”

Before I can respond, Jonah has already taken off after her. And of course, I follow. I can’t let him chase kind-of strangers by himself.

“I heard your questions and I have something to show you,” Carolyn whispers.

“About mermaids?” I ask.

“Shhhh!” She opens a door that leads to a winding staircase. “Follow me.”

We take the stairs down a floor until we’re in the basement, and then we follow her into a small room.

“You should see this.” In the center of the room is a small bed covered with a yellow comforter. To the left is a dresser. She
opens the bottom drawer and takes out a drawing that’s about the size of my hand.

“Look,” she says. “Careful.”

I take the drawing and realize that it’s of a woman — a woman with a fish tail.

“It’s a mermaid!” Jonah exclaims.

“It definitely is,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

“I thought no one here had ever heard of mermaids,” I say.

“They haven’t,” she says. “But I have. My mother gave this drawing to me. She used to tell me stories about the mermaids all the time.”

“Had she seen them?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “But my great-great-grandmother Edith did. She was lost at sea and a mermaid saved her. She told my great-grandmother about her mermaid friend, who told my grandmother, who told my mother, who told me. I know everything about them.”

“Tell us!” Jonah exclaims.

“They live under the water. In a beautiful kingdom. With streets and houses and restaurants and clothes and everything. The girls are called mermaids and the boys are mermen. And they all have silver tails. And —”

“That’s not true,” I interrupt. “We saw one. She didn’t have a silver tail.”

“She must have,” Carolyn huffs. “That’s what my mother told me. And what my grandmother told her. And what —”

“Did your mom say anything about how to get the mermaids to come on land?” I ask.

“They can’t,” Carolyn says. “Whenever my great-great-grandmother Edith wanted to see her friend, she had to swim into the sea. The mermaid even gave her a potion that let her breathe underwater for twelve hours.”

“Ohhhh,” Jonah’s eyes light up. “Let’s take that! Do you know how to make it?”

I shiver. I am not going underwater with or without a potion, thank you very much. There are sharks underwater. Sharks and other animals that want to eat me.

Carolyn nods. “I do know how to make it, but I can’t because one of the ingredients is mermaid spit.”

Gross.

“Find me a mermaid,” she adds, “and I’ll make you the potion.”

Vivian spots us as we return to the party.

“Where have you been?” she asks.

“Just looking around,” I say.

She scowls. “I hope you’re not making a mess for me. Russell! Russell, come here!”

A boy about Jonah’s age appears at her side. His skin is suntanned and freckled. Like everyone else in Mustard, he looks like he spends a lot of quality time on the beach.

“This is my son,” Vivian explains. “He can keep you two company. Russell, why don’t you show Abby and Jonah where you play tetherball?”

“Let’s go sailing instead,” the boy says. “I think the royal boathouse is still open.”

Yes! That’s a great idea. If we’re on a boat, we’ll be able to find the Little Mermaid. We may not have an underwater potion, but that doesn’t mean we can’t search the sea.

“No boats!” Vivian snaps. “It’s almost dark out, and the sea is too rough.”

Oh well.

“I love tetherball,” Jonah says.

Russell nods. “Let’s go!”

“I’m going to stay here,” I say. The last time I played tetherball I almost broke my nose.

Tomorrow, we’ll take out a boat. Nothing that will tip over. A rowboat maybe. Then we’ll find the Little Mermaid. How hard can it be?

F
irst thing the next morning, Jonah and I head for the royal boathouse.

We find the yellow hut right on the beach. A suntanned guy in mirrored sunglasses is manning the booth. All around him are different kinds of boats. Windsurfers, sailboats, canoes, banana boats.

“We’d like to borrow a rowboat,” I say.

“Of course,” the royal boatman says, handing us a ledger. “Just sign one out.”

The royal boathouse seems a lot like a library.

“And two life jackets,” I add. “And do you happen to have some sort of radio? In case the boat drifts off and we need to get in touch?”

The boatman shakes his head.

“Do you have goggles?” my brother asks.

“Yup, those we got.” He reaches under the counter and hands us two pairs.

“What do we need these for?” I ask my brother.

Jonah scrunches his eyebrows as though the answer is obvious. “To look underwater for the Little Mermaid.”

“Underwater?” I ask, slightly incredulous. “Are you crazy? We’re not going
in
the water.”

He snorts. “How else are we going to find her?”

“With our eyes!” I exclaim. “From the boat!”

“That’s just silly,” he says, taking both pairs of goggles and dangling them from his arm. “We’ll swim around.”

My mouth gets super dry. “We’ll see,” I say, but what I really mean is NO WAY.

Jonah turns back to the boatman. “Do you have snorkels? Or scuba equipment?”

“Are those types of boats?” he asks back.

“I guess not,” Jonah says.

“You don’t know how to scuba,” I remind my brother.

My brother shrugs. “Not yet, but I wanna learn.”

So not happening.

As we make our way to the shore, I see that half the palace is already out on the water. Including the prince, king, and queen. All three of them are windsurfing.

“Let’s take Windsurfers out instead,” Jonah begs, his eyes following them with longing. “It looks fun!”

The three royals are being pulled by the wind in all directions. Suddenly, the king flies headfirst into the ocean.

It does not look like fun. It looks terrifying.

“Not a chance,” I snap.

“Enjoy,” the boatman says as we step into the rowboat and sit side by side. He pushes us out into the water, and off we go.

Five minutes later, sweat is dripping down the sides of my face.

The sun is beating on our heads.

“Push! Pull! Push! Pull!” I order.

It turns out that oars are really heavy. Who knew?

The massive yellow life jackets we’re both wearing over our
bathing suits do not help the heat. Between the next push and pull, I catch Jonah trying to take his life jacket off.

“Don’t you dare!” I warn.

“But I know how to swim.”

“I don’t care. You’re my baby brother, and it’s my job to make sure you don’t drown.”

We push-pull for another ten minutes before I call out, “Enough.” The water is somewhat calm and we’re away from the other boats. Might as well stop here. Also, I’m too tired to go on. My arms feel like rubber. I guzzle water from my canteen and motion for Jonah to do the same. I made sure we both filled up before we left. No getting dehydrated on my watch. Still, I feel like there’s something I forgot. But what?

Anyway, it’s time to find the Little Mermaid. “Oh, Little Mermaid!” I call. “Are you there, Little Mermaid?”

I do not see the Little Mermaid. I just see a lot of blue water.

“We’re not going to see her from up here,” Jonah says, putting on one of the pairs of goggles. “Let’s jump in.”

My heart races. “No, Jonah, that is not the plan.”

“That’s my plan,” he says.

“But … but … but…. the water has sharks!”

He stands up and looks like he’s ready to cannonball in. “It also has mermaids. And it’s not like I’m going to drown. I’m wearing a life jacket.”

He swings his arms back and forth.

“Jonah, you’re going to flip the boat!”

“I won’t,” he says. And then he hollers, “Geronimo!” and launches himself over the edge.

Water splashes into my face. “You’re so annoying!” I yell.

He ignores me and waves. “Come on in! It’s so warm!”

What choice do I have now? I can’t let him be in the water by himself. What if he needs me? I hug my life jacket to my chest. At least I can’t drown with this on.

I can’t, right?

Okay. I can do this. My legs shake as I adjust the goggles on my nose. I carefully — very carefully — dip my big toe in. Anything could be hiding underwater. Not just mermaids. But sharks and stingrays and jelly fish and barracudas and crocodiles, and did I mention sharks?

“Just jump!” Jonah yells. “Don’t be such a scaredy-cat!”

My face burns. “I am not a scaredy-cat!”

“You are, too,” he says. “You’re scared of everything. Sharks. Jumping in the water. Flying by yourself.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not afraid of flying by myself.”

“So why don’t you go see Nana on your own this weekend?”

Is he crazy? “I can’t go by myself!”

“Yes you can! My friend Isaac flies by himself once a month. His dad lives in Miami.”

I pause. “They let a seven-year-old fly by himself?”

“Yup. He’s a UM. Unaccompanied Minor. If he can do it, you can do it.”

Flying by myself does sound a
little
scary. What if I got lost at the airport? What if there was turbulence on the plane? “Mom would never let me,” I say, my heart hammering.

“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” he says. “Scaredy-cat.”

“I’m not a scaredy-cat!” I snap. And then, before I can change my mind, I jump into the ocean.

I did it! I jumped in! Hurray! Who’s a scaredy-cat now, huh? The water is cold. But considering how hot it is outside, it feels good. Really good.

I scream. Something swam by my leg. I take a deep breath. Just a minnow.

I make sure my goggles are on tight, take a deep breath, and peer into the murkiness.

A school of shiny red fish swims by us at top speed. They are very pretty. They are not mermaids.

“Oh, Little Mermaid!” Jonah calls. “Where are you?”

She does not answer.

We watch as all kinds of fish swim by us. Neon-orange ones. Bright-blue ones. A pink one that looks like a balloon with porcupine needles. Lots of fish, but no mermaids.

“We should head back,” I say eventually. “This isn’t working. We’ll have to think of another way.” I help Jonah climb into the boat and then heave myself up behind him.

We both drip water everywhere.

“Where are the towels?” Jonah asks, rubbing his wet arms.

Crumbs. I knew I forgot something.

Dejected, we row our way back to the palace.

“I’m hungry,” Jonah whines.

“We’re almost there,” I say. “You can ask Carolyn to make you a grilled cheese.”

“I’m not having a grilled cheese without ketchup. That’s just sad.”

That morning Carolyn made us delicious omelets. And served them with a side of mustard. Jonah had almost started to cry.

“You’re crazy,” I say.

“Crazy about ketchup,” Jonah says.

“Can we focus on rowing, please?” I ask. “The shore is right there! Then I have to figure out a Plan B.”

“Maybe she’ll come to us,” Jonah says.

“Push, Jonah, push! Why would she do that?”

“She loves the prince, right? She probably wants to see him.”

“You know,” I say, “I think you’re right. I remember something in the story about her swimming by the shore and trying to get a glimpse of him. Pull, Jonah, pull!”

“I’m pulling,” he snaps. “More than you’re pulling.”

“I guess we’ll have to watch the water as much as we can,” I add as the bottom of our boat smashes into the sand.

As we’re towing the boat to shore, the queen waves us over to join her for lunch.

“We should change first,” I say.

“Don’t be silly,” she says.

So we join the king, queen, and prince at the oval table outside for lunch. There’s a yellow silk tablecloth, and the dishes and silverware are all made of gold. I put my yellow silk napkin on my lap like you’re supposed to. I elbow Jonah to do the same.

It seems silly to be so formal when we’re all in our bathing suits, but whatever. The king and prince aren’t even wearing shirts — they’re just in bright-yellow trunks. The queen’s swimsuit is pale yellow with a little skirt.

Carolyn serves bowls of squash soup, followed by lemon chicken and yellow rice.

“How was rowboating?” the prince asks while chewing a mouthful of rice. For a prince, he doesn’t have the best manners. I’d mention it, but you know. He’s a prince. He could probably have me beheaded.

“Hard,” I admit. “We were looking for the Little Mermaid, but we didn’t find her.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” they all laugh. “A mermaid! You two are so funny!”

Sigh.

Carolyn gives me a knowing look as she serves me a bowl of banana sorbet.

After lunch, Jonah and I head to our balconies to try to catch a glimpse of the Little Mermaid from there.

Jonah starts to fidget.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“We don’t
both
have to sit here, do we?”

“Why, do you have other plans?”

He smiles sheepishly. “I was going to play with Russell. Wanna come?”

“I have to look for the Little Mermaid!”

“Oh,” he says. “Okay.”

“If you really want to go, you can,” I say, but I don’t really expect him to leave me alone.

Jonah jumps up. “Great! I’ll see you later!”

I can’t help but feel annoyed. He still thinks this is a vacation! We have work to do.

As I stare at the ocean, I wonder if I’m wasting my time. The water is so busy with all the boats and swimmers. We know the Little Mermaid doesn’t want to be seen — so then why would she swim close to the surface during the day? She probably does it at night.

I get to my feet. Maybe instead of watching the water, I should spend the day searching the palace grounds for portals to get back home. Make that:
Jonah and I
should spend the day searching the palace grounds.

I find my brother playing Ping-Pong with Russell outside. “Jonah, I need your help. We have to find the portal home.” I whisper the last part so Russell doesn’t hear. I don’t know
anything about the kid — I’m not going to trust him with our situation yet.

“Let me just finish this game.” Jonah leans over the table and tries to return a shot.

“Jonah! Now!”

“Okay, okay,” he grumbles. “Sorry, Russell. Wanna come help us knock on all the furniture to find our way home?”

I purse my lips. I guess we’re not keeping our situation a secret.

Russell wrinkles his nose. “Not really. My mom doesn’t like when I touch the furniture.”

I lead Jonah back inside.

“How great is it that Russell gets to live in the palace?” he asks. “Imagine getting to be here every day.”

“Don’t get too comfy,” I say. “We need to go home eventually. And remember: The portal can be anything.
Any object
.”

We step into the main hallway and Jonah looks around. “So it could be a — door?” he asks.

I nod. “Or a mirror. Or a fireplace. Or a table. How are we supposed to know?”

Jonah motions to all the frames on the wall. “Maybe it’s a painting.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Let’s try knocking on them to see if any of them make any sounds or start spinning. But don’t let them take you yet, ’kay? Stand back.”

I start with the full-body portrait of Prince Mortimer. He’s wearing his crown and a yellow wet suit. It’s really lifelike. His eyes seem to follow me around the room. I knock on the painting three times. It’s creepy, but I don’t think it’s enchanted.

It takes about an hour, but we knock on at least a hundred portraits and paintings.

“Guess it’s not the paintings,” I say.

“Are we done?” Jonah asks eagerly. “Can I go windsurfing?”

“No, Jonah! We have to check the doors and mirrors.”

We hurry around the palace knocking on all of them. We are almost done when —

“Come in!” Vivian yells when we knock on one of the spare bedroom doors.

Oops. “Hi,” I say. Inside, I head to the mirror over the dresser and knock three times.

“What in the world are you doing?” Vivian asks, putting down her duster.

I give a small smile. “Um, knocking? See, the way we got here was through a mirror, so a mirror might be our portal home.”

“Well, stop it!” she barks. “You’re making the frames uneven. Go play outside!”

“I agree,” says Jonah.

“Sorry, Vivian,” I say. I pull Jonah back downstairs. We’re never going to be able to knock on every object in the house. The palace has a lot of stuff. And Vivian is going to kill us.

“What we need,” Jonah says, sitting down on a marble step, “is a fairy.”

“This story doesn’t have a fairy!” I cry. “The only magical person in this story is the sea witch, and we can’t go see her since she lives underwater. And I don’t happen to have any mermaid spit on me.”

“We should try a bat signal.”

“Huh?”

“You know how in
Batman
they put up a signal in the sky when they need Batman? That’s what we need. A bat signal. But in our case, a mermaid signal.”

I’m confused. “For the sea witch?”

“No, for the Little Mermaid. Something to get her to come faster.”

“But what would draw the Little Mermaid to us?”

“There’s only one thing,” Jonah says.

We look at each other and both say it: “Prince Mortimer.”