The Tail of Emily Windsnap - Liz Kessler [11]
“So that’s — that’s good, huh?”
“Good? It’s great! I want to be a siren when I grow up.”
I stared at her. “So all that stuff in fairy tales about mermaids luring fishermen to watery graves — it’s all true?”
Shona shrugged. “It’s not like we want them to die. Not necessarily. Usually, we just hypnotize them into changing their ways and then wipe their memories so they move away and forget they saw us.”
“Wipe their memories?”
“Usually, yes. It’s our best defense. Not everyone knows how to do it. Mainly just sirens and those close to the king. We just use it to stop them from stealing all our fish, or finding out about our world.” She leaned in closer. “Sometimes, they fall in love.”
“The mermaids and the fishermen?”
Shona nodded excitedly. “There’re loads of stories about it. It’s totally illegal — but so romantic, isn’t it?”
“Well, I guess so. Is that why you were singing just now?”
“Oh, that. No, I was practicing for Beauty and Deportment,” she said, as if I totally would know what she was talking about. “We’ve got a test tomorrow, and I can’t get my posture right. You have to sit perfectly, tilt your head exactly right, and brush your hair in a hundred smooth strokes. It’s a pain in the gills trying to remember everything at once.”
She paused, and I guessed it was my turn to say something. “Mmm-hmm, yeah, I know what you mean,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing.
“I came in first in last semester’s final, but that was just hair brushing. This is the whole package.”
“It sounds really tough.”
“B and D is my favorite subject,” she went on. “I wanted to be seventh-grade hairbrush monitor, but Cynthia Smoothflick got it.” She lowered her voice. “But Mrs. Sharptail told me that if I do well in this test, maybe they’ll give it to me in the spring.”
What was I meant to say to that?
“You think I’m a goody-goody, don’t you?” she said, waching my face. She started to swim away again. “Just like everybody else does.”
“No, of course not,” I said. “You’re . . . you’re . . .” I struggled to find the right words. “You’re . . . really interesting.”
“You’re pretty swishy, too,” she said, and let herself float back.
“How come you’re out in the middle of the night, anyway?” I asked.
“These rocks are the best ones around for B and D, but you can’t really come here in the daytime. It’s too dangerous.” She stuck a thumb out toward the coast. “I usually sneak out on Sunday nights. Or Wednesdays. Mom’s always out like a tide by nine o’clock on Sunday. She likes to be fresh for the week ahead. And she has her aquarobics on Wednesdays and always sleeps more soundly after that. Dad sleeps like a whale every night!” Shona laughed. “Anyway, I’m glad I came tonight.”
I smiled. “Me, too.” The moon had moved around and was shining down on me, a tiny chink missing from its side. “But I have to get going soon,” I added, yawning.
Shona frowned. “Are you going to come back some other time?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” She might be a bit strange, but she was a mermaid. The only one I’d ever met. She was like me! “When?”
“Wednesday?”
“Great.” I grinned. “And good luck on your test!”
“Thanks!” she shouted. And with a flick of her tail, she was gone.
As I swam around Brightport Harbor in the darkness, the beam from the lighthouse flashed steady rays across the water. I stopped for a moment to watch. Each beam slowly scanned the water before disappearing around the back of the lighthouse. It was almost hypnotic. A large ship silently made its way across the horizon, its silhouette briefly visible with each slow beam of light.
But then I noticed something else. Someone was standing on the rocks at the bottom of the lighthouse. Mr. Beeston! What was he doing? He seemed to be looking out at the horizon, following the ship’s progress.
I ducked under the water as another beam came around. What if he’d seen me? I stayed underwater until the light